In Absentia

FloatingAlong

As my life sits on the precipice of a new beginning, it also sits on the very same edge of all that is soon to be a memory. And as I do this, as boxes of old photos have been gone through and all my belongings whittled down to what I want to keep and what I do not – I do so on the two-year anniversary of my father’s passing. I also do this while crafting my latest book; this blog published as daily meditations titled: The Way Forward.

We’re all tethered to something. Some of our own choosing. Some like a Gordian knot from which there is little escape. If ever to move forward we must first come to terms with our past. We must loosen the knot. And that is exactly what I’ve spent the last few years of my life doing. Now, I no longer feel at home in my house, but I feel at home within my soul. My mind has come to terms with who I am, and how I came to be.

Sitting next to my bed is my school portrait. I had, at best, six years under my belt when the photo was taken. And yet, those early years have been the foundation on which I’ve walked for the last forty-three. I’ve decided we both need new ground. We both need a new foothold and a new beginning. It is never too late to start again. And I feel within my being that this new chapter was predestined to begin when it has. I’m exactly where I need to be, exactly when I was meant to be here.

I have few regrets. Some, but not many. Any missteps I’ve taken have also provided me valuable insight, and for that I am grateful. I had to be present in those moments. We owe it to ourselves to be present in all moments. I would like to say that the joyful moments hold more value than those that feel crippling at the time. But in my heart I know it isn’t so. Often something within us must be broken, if ever it is to open. The heart needs to break, to finally open itself up to the life and love it was meant to have. Our ego must suffer the same for it to one day bow to the soul. Crippling moments are not set backs, they are moments when we are meant to break out of the old; to crack the thick walls, to allow something better in.

My hope is that I’m beginning the better half of my life; the half filled with more joy than pain; the half where I take all that I have learned and share it with others. I am now stepping fully into my life’s purpose; knowing all the while my purpose was to first live through all that I have. And from this moment on, I hope to be present, to feel what surrounds me. I’m going to slow down more, I’m going to savor more. I’m going to look deeper and wider. My father wished his life away, buried in discontent. He is happy now, and so am I. I wish him the very best with his next life. And in some manner of speaking, I’m sure we will meet again. But for the rest of mine, I plan on nestling in, and getting used to calmer waters. I want a canoe that floats easily down the middle of the river. I’m looking forward to that. And as always, I plan to share with you all that I learn and all that I see as I float the way forward – healed and happy – inquisitive, yet content.

Sane

Advertisements

6 thoughts on “In Absentia

  1. words4jp

    This is beautiful. I have missed you. My life has been too busy. Instead of a canoe on calm waters, I feel like I have been swimming against the current of rapids. I look forward to reading your book when it is released. Please let us know – when!! Kimberly.

    Reply
    1. SaneSamantha Post author

      These words, they mean so much to me. Thank you for sharing them. I haven’t yet experienced the canoe ride. But I do hope one day to glide along calmer waters. All I know are deep plunging seas. In many ways I wonder if I would know what to do if not having to hold tight as I feel my life descend, then buoy hard back up high. Sometimes when something is all we know, we experience it even when it isn’t there. So with this geographical move, I am making an emotional move; creating for myself a new normal. I wish you the best as you swim. You are stronger than you know. I have missed you too – all of you. I never feel alone when I write. Thank you for giving me that. Love to you ~ S.

      Reply
  2. girlseule

    Loved so much of this but the line “The heart needs to break, to finally open itself up to the life and love it was meant to have.” particularly spoke to me. Thanks!

    Reply
    1. SaneSamantha Post author

      I’m so pleased you felt that line. I believe it to be true. I only wish the breaking wasn’t so painful and yet, it seems that is how it must be. But it is a good thing. Love to you ~ S.

      Reply
  3. bstarbee

    I love this line: “I have few regrets. Some, but not many. Any missteps I’ve taken have also provided me valuable insight, and for that I am grateful. I had to be present in those moments. We owe it to ourselves to be present in all moments. I would like to say that the joyful moments hold more value than those that feel crippling at the time. But in my heart I know it isn’t so. Often something within us must be broken, if ever it is to open.” Reminds me of Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet – his chapter on joy and sorrow. Thank you for reminding me that in darkness, we learn.

    Reply
    1. SaneSamantha Post author

      Thank you for taking the time to tell me this. It sounds like I should add Gibran’s book to my list of must-reads. But I do believe this to be true – that during all things we should try to be present. Those moment are our now and our convictions and beliefs during those times stirs what is to come. So with that, I do try to have an appreciation for even that which pains me. I try. Love to you ~ S.

      Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s